Forged In Fire
by seeing-spots
Summary: The greatest friendships never start off smoothly. Movieverse and bookverse.
1. Hostile Feelings

DISCLAIMER: all characters and things associated with Middle Earth belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. I am merely borrowing them.

SUMMARY: A mix of movie-verse and book-verse. The greatest friendships never start off smoothly.

**Forged In Fire** by Jessie Syring

Chapter One: Hostile Feelings

Gimli, son of Gloin, shifted uneasily and opened his eyes. The unnatural stillness disturbed him deeply when he had thought the Dwarven mines would bring him peace. The sound of the forges should have echoed through the massive halls of Moria, no matter the time of day. His people were industrious and the lure of silvery mithril pulled strongly at any Dwarf's heart.

He looked around at his fellow travelers, gathered as close as possible to the fire the ranger Aragorn had coaxed to life. The small blaze, little more than a torch, offered no real comfort except light that drove back the unknown terrors of the darkness beyond its warm glow. Gimli felt no fears here as he ran a gloved hand over the smooth stone of the floor. He could imagine the great halls before they had fallen to such disrepair---high arched ceilings braced by massive columns, statues of great heroes sternly staring at any intruders, the smell of roasting meats. The sound of hammer and strong voices raised in work chants would rise from the mines and forges in the deepest levels.

A faint song reached his ears, a very melancholy tune in a strangely lilting language whose words were strange to him. Gimli stifled a groan and rolled over, trying to ignore the sound. The damned Elf was on watch again. He _always_ seemed to be awake when the others slept, even when others watched. Gimli had been keeping a wary eye on Legolas since they had left Rivendell and so had noticed several changes since they had entered Moria two days ago. The tall Elf rarely strayed far from the magical light Gandalf supplied and his eyes darted about uneasily. Tiny sounds---the drip of water, a shifting of loose rock---caused him to start, gripping his bow tightly. Gimli wondered what other noises came to the sharp ears of the archer. When the Fellowship rested, he seemed unable to sit still.

Still, he could have the courtesy not to disturb the rest of the others.

"Sleep, Master Dwarf," a voice said quietly from nearby. "There is nothing to worry about."

Gimli looked over his shoulder and saw Legolas standing nearby. His angular face looked unnaturally pale in the flickering firelight. Gimli could not hide his annoyed frown. "'t would be easier if I didn't have to listen to you caterwauling and generally disturbing those of us trying to get rest!" he growled, sitting up.

Legolas straightened, his expression hard. "Caterwauling?" he repeated angrily. "The realms of the Valar ring with the songs and music of Elves.

"Then I hope I never find myself there!"

"Enough!" Gandalf's voice had a hard tone to it that could not be ignored. Elf and Dwarf turned to find the white-bearded Istari sitting up as well, his brow furrowed in anger. "We face enough difficuties without the two of you arguing like children."

"See here, now---" began Gimli, puffing out his chest indignantly.

Gandalf lowered his voice. "We have a long journey ahead of us. I suggest you get some sleep."

Gimli felt heat rising in his cheeks as he looked at his companions. The Hobbits were blinking in confusion at being awakened abruptly. The Dwarf murmured an apology and, with one last glare at the Elf, began gathering his blankets again. Legolas still stood where he was, the flush of embarrassment quickly being replaced by a look of despair.

"I'll not disturb your rest again," Legolas said quietly.

The Elf swiftly walked away, making no more noise than a passing breeze might. He took a new position far from Gimli and the camp, his natural luminescence a faint glow near the dark opening of a cavernous side passage. Gimli paused, then let out an annoyed "harrumph" before rolling back into his blankets and closing his eyes. _Flighty creature_, he thought. _He's got no business on this venture if he can't stand a little hardship_.

To Be Continued


	2. The Growing Shadow

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One

A/N: I've reloaded Chapter Two with some corrections to formatting. fanfiction.net will not let me put in asterisks or double spacing between scene breaks for some reason.

Chapter Two: The Growing Shadow

With a tired sigh, Aragorn pushed back his blankets. _Don't I have enough to worry about right now without playing peacekeeper amidst my own group?_ he wondered angrily. Gandalf had not gone back to sleep but sat puffing thoughtfully on his pipe. Frodo also looked as though rest would elude him the rest of the night as he sat staring at the fire. Aragorn looked at Gimli but could already hear the heavy breathing of sleep. He rose, looking for Legolas.

Legolas stood near the wall at the mouth of the side passage, head cocked in listening. The light of the small fire failed to penetrate the absolute darkness around him. Other than the occasional movement of his head when he caught a faint sound, he stood as still as any of the statues they had passed. Both hands were wrapped tightly about his bow.

"Man cenich?" Aragorn asked, stepping beside him and peering into the darkness. His quietly spoken Elvish words didn't reach farther than Legolas. What do you see?

"U-cerin," Legolas said. "But I hear. Sounds that are strange to me. Nothing is familiar here. I---" I see nothing

He stopped abruptly, chewing on his lower lip. Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder and Legolas quickly brushed it away, but not before Aragorn felt the trembling in his slender frame. Legolas felt a flush rise to his face and moved away.

"Legolas, stop," Aragorn said. "There is no shame in admitting fear."

Legolas looked at him with haunted eyes. "Na saura beleg si," he said. "I feel it, like a shadow in my mind." There is great evil here.

Aragorn straightened, recalling Gandalf's words about fouler things than orcs in the dark places of the earth. "Can you tell what it is?"

"Nay. Only that it is here." Legolas stared into the darkness again. "The Dwarves delved too deep."

Aragorn frowned. "I have seen no evidence of what you speak, mellon nin. Don't let your hatred of Dwarves cloud your judgement. You saw the markings on the doors."

"I saw the symbols, Aragorn. The Tree, the Hammer and Anvil, and the Star."

"Then you know that Elves, Men, and Dwarves have been friends in the past and worked together." Aragorn clasped his shoulder and turned the fair Elf to face him. "Remember that, Legolas. We need to stand together now to destroy the One Ring. If we fight among ourselves, Sauron has already won." Legolas nodded. Aragorn smiled at him and said, "Get some rest, Legolas. Sit near the fire and enjoy its light. I'll take the last watch."

Legolas touched his arm. "Hannon le," he said softly. Thank you.

Aragorn nodded and leaned against the wall to watch. Legolas walked lightly to the fire, careful not to disturb the sleepers. He seated himself near the wizard but did not lie down to rest.

NEXT SCENE

Led by Gandalf and Gimli, the Fellowship wandered through a maze of twisting corridors and up steep, narrow stairs. Crumbled stone and broken statues lay everywhere. In several places, the Fellowship had to skirt around massive chasms that seemed to reach to endless depths.

They finally paused to rest on a landing at the top of a long set of stairs where three passages branched off. The stairs had been so steep the Hobbits nearly had to climb like one would a ladder. They needed a rest and Gandalf had admitted quite frankly that he had no memory of this place. So the group made themselves comfortable. Gandalf chose a large, fairly flat granite slab near the top of the stairs and puffed at his pipe as he sat in contemplation. Boromir and Legolas had taken positions on the landing at the top of the stairs. Boromir looked about uneasily while the Elf seemed to study the carved stonework in the magical light of the staff. Gimli sat on a step near Gandalf and Frodo, digging out his own pipe and weed. Several stairs below, the remaining Hobbits and Aragorn rested. Pippin and Merry seemed to be discussing food---their favorite subject, Gimli knew.

"It's Gollum. He's been following us."

Gimli twisted at Gandalf's quiet words. The wizard had neither raised his head nor turned. Frodo was at the edge of the stairs, peering over the edge and into the darkness far below. Gimli chose not to look himself---he had no fear of heights but saw no reason to tempt the fates. Frodo and the old man were talking in soft whispers but a new voice caught Gimli's ears.

"Strider? What's wrong with Legolas?"

"What do you mean, Master Pippin?" asked Aragorn, keeping his voice low.

"He's acting...I don't know...funny. But not a good funny. He's hardly eaten a thing in two days. And he's not singing any more. Is he sick?"

Aragorn smiled sadly. "Nay, 'tis not a sickness. Legolas is an Elf and they do not do well in the dark places of the world."

"I don't blame him," grumbled Sam.

"Don't worry about him," Aragorn assured them. "Once we pass through the far gate, Legolas will be his usual cheerful self."

_And singing again_, Gimli thought with a disgusted snort. Pippin looked up at him and asked, "Do you know any songs, Gimli?"

"Aye. My people have a tradition as old as stone itself. Would you like to hear some, Master Took?"

"Indeed! But call me Pippin. All my friends do."

"All right, young Pippin." He thought about it a moment, then opened his mouth and began a chant in a deep base voice.

> > > A king was he on a carven throne
>>> 
>>> In many-pillared halls of stone
>>> 
>>> With golden roof and silver floor
>>> 
>>> And runes of power upon the door.
>>> 
>>> The light of sun and star and moon
>>> 
>>> In shining lamps of crystal hewn
>>> 
>>> Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
>>> 
>>> There shone for ever fair and bright."
>>> 
>>> _Fellowship of the Ring_. Ballantine Books. 1994. New York, New York. Page 355

Gimli's words died as he realized that most of the Fellowship was now staring at him. Sam said, "I've never heard that song. I doubt even old Bilbo knows it."

"It's part of a very old song," said Gimli, sucking on his pipe, "about Durin and the rich mines of Moria. Those were happier times."

"Do you know more of it?" Pippin asked eagerly.

"Now is not the time for song, Peregrin Took," Gandalf announced, standing up and gesturing with his staff toward one of the three passages. "It's this way."

"He's remembered!" exclaimed Merry.

Gandalf smiled indulgently. "No. The air doesn't smell so foul. When in doubt, Master Merry, always follow your nose."

Slowly the Fellowship ascended the last few stairs. Legolas gave a slight nod of his head to Gandalf, who paused to let the Hobbits by first. Gimli paused, still not trusting the Elf.

"The air is warmer here, Mithrandir," Legolas said quietly, "and it is not nearly so dark."

Gandalf nodded, keeping his expression neutral as Frodo glanced back. "You noticed it as well," he murmurred. Legolas nodded. "There may be a fire in the lower levels. But we shall keep our guard up. Pass word to Aragorn and Boromir." The tall wizard moved past Legolas so he could return to the head of the group. "Come along, Gimli. We have many more miles to go before this day is over."

Gimli cast one last look at Legolas before following.

To Be Continued

A/N: Mithrandir is the Elves' name for Gandalf and means "gray pilgrim."


	3. The Way Out

DISCLAIMER:  See Chapter One for full disclaimer.  Thank you, Peter Jackson, for everything that allowed me to write this chapter.

A/N:  thanks to all my reviewers.  DJ, mucho gusto y gracias!

Chapter Three:  The Way Out

            "Behold the great realm of the Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf," declared Gandalf, raising his staff and increasing the intensity of the magical light.

            Gimli stared in awe at the sight before him---all the legends and tales had not prepared him for this!  Stone columns bigger than a circle of ten men marched off in rows beyond the reach of the light.  Looking up, he could see the columns curving to form buttresses to support the ceiling that still lay in shadow.  Unlike most of the rooms they had passed through already, this huge chamber was free of debris and the columns seemed undamaged.

            "Now there's an eye-opener," Sam murmured in quiet awe.

            Even his soft words echoed in the chamber.  Gimli looked around, trying to place this room in what he knew of Moria's rooms.  If this were indeed the throne room, then somewhere nearby had to be the Hall of Records, lit by a shaft of light from the surface.  He fell to the back of the group, just outside the radius of Gandalf's light so his eyes could better penetrate the light.  There---he could now see a brightly lit room far to the left and---

            "NO!"

            Ignoring a warning cry from Gandalf, Gimli ran toward the lit room.  Bright sunlight angled down and came to rest upon a large sarcophagus carved from stone.  Small skeletons, bits of armor, shields, and a large number of weapons were scattered about the chamber, and many of the skeletons had black Goblin arrows sticking from them.  Gimli fell to his knees before the sarcophagus, sobbing.  He didn't hear the rest of the Fellowship enter quietly behind him.  A helmet bounced noisily across the floor as a careless foot bumped it.  Then Gandalf was standing beside him.  Holding his massive beard out of the way, Gandalf blew dust away from the inscriptions on the stone.

            "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin.  Lord of Moria.'"  Gandalf took off his hat, the age lines in his face deepening in sorrow.  "He is dead, then."

            Swallowing a last sob, Gimli began rocking back and forth and chanting a prayer in his native tongue.  He dimly heard voices behind him---the quiet voice of Legolas and the deeper tones of Gandalf---but paid them no heed.  As he finished his prayer, Gandalf's words registered.  The old man was reading from a huge, dust-covered tome.

            "'A shadow moves in the dark.  Drums…drums in the deep.  We cannot get out.  We cannot get out.  They are coming.'"

            Before anyone could say any more, a loud crash echoed through the chamber.  Spinning toward the sound, they saw Pippin standing near a deep well shaft with a grimace on his face.  More items followed whatever he had first knocked into the shaft, creating an echoing avalanche of sound.  Finally the last of the noise died away.

            Gandalf slammed the book shut.  "Fool of a Took!  Next time why don't you throw yourself in?"

            Gimli sighed and rose to his feet, then froze as a loud BOOM emanated from the depths of the well.  More followed, bouncing off the walls of the chamber as they rose from the deepest levels.  Then other sounds could be heard---squealing and chittering that somehow seemed to come from everywhere.

            "Frodo!  Your sword!" cried Sam.

            The young Hobbit drew the weapon he wore and stared at the blade, which glowed blue with an unnatural light.

            "Orcs!" hissed Legolas.

            "That's stating the obvious," grumbled Gimli.

            Boromir ran to the entrance and peered out into the large chamber.  He jerked back as two black arrows slammed into the door mere inches from his head.  He pulled back inside and slammed the door, exclaiming, "They have a cave troll."

            Aragorn and Legolas gathered up spears and axes from the fallen Dwarves.  Boromir jammed the weapons in the doorway to brace the door.  The four Hobbits retreated to the far side of the chamber.  Gandalf joined them, shifting his staff to his left hand and drawing his sword.

            Something heavy smashed into the doors and they shuddered under the impact.  Boromir retreated, raising his shield and holding his own blade at the ready.  Aragorn and Legolas took up stances a half-dozen strides from the door and armed themselves with their bows, waiting patiently for a target as the door rocked under a second blow.

            "Let them come!" snarled Gimli, climbing on top of the tomb.  "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

            A small crack appeared in the door and an Orc peered inside.  Legolas quickly released an arrow and the Orc fell back, squealing.  Aragorn let fly an arrow almost as quickly.  Legolas fired a second time through the crack.  Aragorn fired another arrow, then quickly drew his sword as the door crashed inward and Orcs swarmed into the chamber.

            Fighting filled the chamber as more than a dozen Orcs charged in.  From his position on top of the tomb, Gimli had easy targets.  He tried to keep an eye on the Hobbits amid the mass of bodies and weapons, heard Frodo cry something about the Shire, but soon had to concentrate on his own problems.

            He sank his axe into the head of an Orc, through its helmet and all, but could not easily yank his axe free.  A second foul creature, barking in its strange language, reared up before him with a huge hooked sword.  Gimli swore and reached for the spare axe at his belt.

            A soft whisper of air just past Gimli's ear caused him to duck even as the Orc staggered and fell.  A slender arrow protruded from the creature's left eye.  Glancing over his shoulder, Gimli saw Legolas parry an Orc sword with his bow even as he drew one of his twin long knives.

            "That one was mine!" Gimli shouted, levering his axe free.

            His attention was pulled back to the entrance by a loud crash as an enormous creature with mottled gray skin smashed through the doorway.  He stared for a moment in disbelief and horror, then hastily dove off the tomb and rolled to the side as the cave troll smashed its crude club onto the tomb.  Rock splintered and shattered at the impact.

            The troll followed the rolling Dwarf, wildly swinging its club in an effort to hit him.  Orcs squealed in alarm and desperately tried to get out of the way as the weapon indiscriminately struck them as well.  One Orc tugged futilely at a thick chain running a manacle around the beast's wrists.  With an enraged bellow, the troll grabbed the chain and used it to throw the Orc into the wall with a sickening crunch.

            Saved by the distraction, Gimli staggered to his feet.  There were still far too many Orcs to fight as well.  The Hobbits were using pillars in the room to hide behind as they ambushed Orcs.  Wielding sword and staff with equal skill, Gandalf tried to keep any Orcs from getting too near the Hobbits.  Boromir and Aragorn were trying to fight the troll but had more Orcs to contend with as well.  The Elf was fighting his way through Orcs to get to high ground.  But the troll had seen him and was swinging his chain that direction.

            Taking advantage of the troll's distraction, Gimli laid hand on his second axe and rushed in, using both weapons in tandem.  Most of his blows bounced off the thick hide with little effect.  Suddenly the troll howled in pain and Legolas dropped lightly from its back to the ground as it swung its arms about wildly.  Then one of its huge feet caught the Dwarf and sent him tumbling head over heels.

            Gimli struggled to get up.  He could hear Frodo screaming Aragorn's name and knew he needed to help the others but his legs and arms didn't want to work any more.  He managed to roll over just in time to see the troll thrust a long spear into the Ring-bearer's chest.  Frodo gave a strange little whimper and collapsed.

            The two younger Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, charged the troll and leaped upon its back.  They stabbed at its skull and back with their short swords, trying to kill the beast.  The troll grabbed one---Gimli couldn't immediately tell which---and threw him to the ground.

            The Orcs were gone, dead or fled, as Gimli staggered to his feet.  All attacks were being focussed on the troll.  Gandalf moved with a speed one wouldn't expect from a man his age, darting in to strike and moving out again.  Gimli coordinated his attacks with the wizard, trusting his short height and armor to make up for his lack of speed.

            Suddenly the troll reared up with a bellow of pain.  Legolas immediately unleashed an arrow, firing directly into the area exposed beneath the troll's throat.  The troll's arms fell limply to its sides and it staggered, moaning.  The surrounding Fellowship moved back, weapons ready but staying clear.  The creature took two awkward steps and collapsed.  Pippin gave a startled cry and rolled across the floor as he lost his perch.

            "He's alive!"

            Sam's startled exclamation brought everyone back to their immediate situation.  Aragorn had propped a dazed-looking Frodo into a sitting position.  Gimli wasn't sure who looked more battered for the beating they had taken in the fight, but he was amazed to see no blood on Frodo.

            "You should be dead!" Aragorn said.  "That spear would have skewered a wild boar!"

            Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff and looked down his long nose at Frodo.  "I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye."

            Frodo looked down at the tear in his shirt, then pulled his shirt open at the collar.  Metal shone brightly in the dim light.  Gimli's eyes widened in surprise and he knelt beside the Hobbit for a closer look.

            "Mithril!  You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," he said respectfully.

            Faint screeches reached their ears.  Aragorn helped Frodo to his feet as Gandalf said, "To the Bridge of Khazad-dum!"

            The Fellowship fled the chamber through a door opposite the one leading to the great hall into a room nearly as big.  At the flickering edge of Gandalf's light, they could see Orcs climbing down pillars like spiders on webs.  More crawled through cracks in the floor.  The massive army of Orcs surrounded the Fellowship and began closing in, snarling and chittering.  The taller folks pushed the Hobbits into the center of a protective circle and held weapons ready.

            A deep, ominous growl rumbled through the chamber.

            The Orcs cringed and looked around nervously, no longer interested in the Fellowship.  A fiery glow illuminated a side passageway and most of the dark creatures stared toward it.  A second growl came and seemed to shake the very chamber.  Immediately the Orcs began running.  They climbed pillars as quickly as they had come down them and vanished once more into dark crevasses and holes.  In moments, the Fellowship was alone.

            Boromir leaned closer to Gandalf and asked, "What new devilry is this?"

            "A Balrog."

To Be Continued


	4. Shadows and Flames

DISCLAIMER: please see Chapter One.

A/N: Most of this chapter is right out of the movie (with all respect to Peter Jackson). I took liberties with certain descriptions, though. Please read it, though---it makes the last scene even more appreciative.

CHAPTER FOUR: Shadows and Flames

Gimli ran as he hadn't in a long time, keeping one eye on their path and one eye behind them. Gandalf had now taken the rearmost position, herding the others with an urgency none had seen in him before. Sweat ran down Gimli's face---the temperature in the mines had risen noticeably. He could see a strange reddish glow reflected on the walls and the backs of the people before them.

They ran into a short passageway and Boromir started down a flight of stairs. The stairs ended abruptly in crumbled rock and a drop hundreds of feet. The tall man swayed, trying to keep his balance, and dropped his torch. Quick as a cat, Legolas leaped forward, wrapped his arms around Boromir's chest, and fell backward to pull Boromir back. They landed hard on the stone steps.

"Gandalf!" cried Aragorn.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Gandalf looked at Aragorn. He could see the flames behind them, reflected on Aragorn's face. The ranger's eyes were wide with fear. Beyond the Fellowship, beyond the chasm where the stairs ended, Gandalf could see their destination.

"Lead them on, Aragorn," he commanded. "The bridge is near."

Aragorn turned and looked. In the glow of the wizard's light, he could just make out a massive stone stone bridge stretching across the chasm. A loud roar roughly jerked everyone's attention back to the threat behind them. Aragorn turned that direction.

"Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!" Gandalf commanded.

Flames licked at the walls behind them and another bellow from their unseen pursuer added speed to their flight down yet another passageway and a set of stairs. Far below the stairs was a river of fire and the heat and fumes were nearly unbearable. Then the Fellowship stopped in horror---a section some eight to ten feet long was missing from the stairs. And they could hear movement in the passage behind them---something big amidst the flame.

Gandalf looked at Legolas, lightest and most nimble. "Can you make it?"

Legolas merely nodded and moved back a short ways. He ran two paces and leaped the gap, landing lightly on the other side. Terror showed in his eyes as he looked toward the passage beyond the Fellowship and the stairs shook with a heavy impact, crumbling rocks and sending boulders into the lava below. Then his gaze focussed on Gandalf and he gestured.

"Gandalf!" he called.

Gandalf leaped next, landing near the Elf. Suddenly an arrow whipped past the wizard's head. More clattered against the stairs or missed entirely and fell into the fiery depths. Gimli raised his eyes, trying to find the Orcs that were firing them. Legolas spun around, nocking arrow to string, and fired rapidly into the darkness. Several bodies tumbled out of unseen recesses and fell.

Boromir picked up Merry and Pippin, one under each arm, and ran down the stairs to make his jump. He easily cleared the opening and landed heavily on the other side. Legolas and Gandalf pulled the Hobbits free and pushed them on their way. Aragorn then picked up Sam and threw him across the gap. Boromir easily caught him and set him down. Then Aragorn turned to Gimli.

Gimli held up a warning hand. "Nobody tosses a Dwarf," he growled.

With a roar of determination, he jumped. His toes found purchase on the far side but he didn't have enough forward momentum and began to fall backwards. Legolas' hands shot out and entangled themselves in the first thing they found contact with---Gimli's thick red beard. The Dwarf cried out in pain and humiliation..

"Not the beard!" he cried.

Legolas shifted one hand to Gimli's wide belt and hauled him to firmer footing. Then all turned to look back to Aragorn and Frodo. The pair had retreated a dozen paces as the stairs before them cracked and shattered. Too much distance separated them now to have even a chance of leaping. The stairs trembled and rocked. Far behind them, the fire was growing brighter. Rocks now cracked and separated from the cliff regularly.

"Too much heat!" Gimli exclaimed. "The fire is shattering the rock!"

Almost as though he had predicted it, an enormous rock broke free of the cavern ceiling and crashed onto the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo. The impact smashed through the structure and part of its support column. Already weakened by the other damage, the stairs wobbled and began to sway dangerously. Aragorn grabbed Frodo's arm to steady him and stood as close to the edge of the stairs as he dared. Finally, the support column broke and the portion of stairs they were on toppled toward the others. Aragorn jumped, taking Frodo with him, and they were running before the impact collapsed even more.

They ran into a hall and around a great pillar, toward the bridge that was now clearly visible. Flames reflected on the walls around them and fire roared behind them. Something heavy thudded onto the floor and both heat and flame intensified until their eyes ached and sweat blinded them. They raced across the bridge.

"YOU CANNOT PASS!"

Gandalf's angry order brought the Fellowship to a halt. Gandalf had stopped in the middle of the bridge and turned to face their foe, staff and sword raised. An indistinct shape that dwarfed even the cave troll towered over him, surrounded by flames. Two shadowy wings spread out from either side and eyes glowed white-hot. The creature raised its arms and burst into flames. Fire swirled behind its head and enormous black horns like burning hair.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor." The white light of Gandalf's staff seemed to drive back the dark flames of the Balrog. "The dark flame will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"

Blowing out a stream of hot smoke, the creature extended its arms, black claws extended. A massive sword of swirling flames appeared in one hand, a flame-tongued whip in the other, and it took a vicious swing at Gandalf. Gandalf just got his sword up in time to block the attack. With a brilliant flash of silvery light, the Balrog's sword shattered.

"Go back to the shadow!" commanded Gandalf. He held his sword and staff together, then drove the butt of the staff into the bridge. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

Flame trickled from the beast's maw as it regarded the wizard and his actions. It peered down at the bridge for a moment, then set one massive, cloven hoof on the bridge in front of Gandalf. Nostrils flaring, it moved forward another step. Its triumphant roar changed to a scream of rage as the bridge collapsed beneath it and it fell into the abyss.

Gandalf nearly collapsed on his staff, breathing heavily, as the Fellowship rushed toward him. He turned wearily and smiled. Suddenly, there was a distant crack and ropes of flame wrapped around him, yanking him off the bridge. He managed to catch the edge, straining to support himself and the weight of the Balrog. He turned a weary gaze on Frodo.

"Fly, you fools," he whispered.

Then he was gone.

Frodo screamed and rushed forward. Gimli helped Boromir restrain him and push him in the direction of a flight of stairs going up, leading to bright daylight. They passed Aragorn, staring at the ruined bridge in disbelief. An Orc arrow shattered on the wall near his head. Dodging, he turned and followed the others.

NEXT SCENE

The bright sunlight hit like a physical blow, almost obscene in the wake of Gandalf's sacrifice. Gimli stood beside a dazed Boromir, pounding the haft of his axe against the ground as he tried to contain his emotions. He could hear the Hobbits sobbing in grief and shock. Legolas stood off by himself. Gimli felt anger boil up inside---the blasted Elf seemed untouched by what had just happened.

Aragorn focussed his attention on wiping his sword clean of black Orc blood. Finally he resheathed the blade and called, "Legolas, get them up."

Legolas turned, showing a face lined with shock and grief. He stared at Aragorn uncertainly, then slowly walked to Sam and started to pull him to his feet. Boromir angrily jumped to his feet.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"

"There is no time." Aragorn's voice held a sharp edge. "By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs and time is against us. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. We'll be safe there---the Orcs will not follow."

"That is not what we say in Gondor. There is a great evil there."

"The only evil in Lothlorien is what someone brings with them."

Gimli leaned his axe against his shoulder. "I have no fondness for the hospitality of Elves," he said, "but I think it far preferable to that of the Orcs. Lead on, Aragorn."

NEXT SCENE

In spite of his efforts to remain awake, Gimli dozed even before the rough camp was completed. Sunset had quickly caught them as they left the mountains and the Hobbits had been so exhausted they had to be carried. Aragorn had finally called a halt when it was too dark to see---they dared not risk a fire with so many Orcs about. The safety of the woods was still a day away. The Hobbits had fallen asleep without food or complaint.

Soft, lyrical voices brought Gimli out of his doze. Aragorn and Legolas stood off to one side, speaking in Elvish. Gimli pursed his lips in annoyance, wondering what bothered the Elf now. Aragorn clapped a hand on Legolas' shoulder and returned to the camp while Legolas moved away.

Gimli waited patiently until he heard heavy breathing coming from Aragorn, then rose. With a stealth that few would expect from someone of his bulk wearing armor, he left the camp and headed in the direction the Elf had gone. He had gone a few hundred feet when he heard a quiet, sad sound that could only be one of Legolas' songs. Almost as quickly as he heard it, the sound was gone.

"What is it, Gimli?" Legolas' voice called softly through the darkness.

"I came to tell you...well, why don't you go back to camp and let me stand watch? I'm not that tired and---"

Legolas laughed softly as he appeared out of the darkness. "You are as tired as the rest. Sleep. I'll stand watch again this night."

Gimli folded his arms, frowning. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that a pointy-eared Elf princeling doesn't need any rest?"

Legolas suddenly froze, looking at him with wide eyes. "You know who I am?" he asked.

"Aye. I've known since the council," Gimli confirmed. "My father says you have the look of your father about you. And the manners as well, the way you and Aragorn insist on speaking in Elvish all the time."

Legolas frowned. "You will not let me sing and now you would deny me the right to speak in my own language?"

"I didn't say you couldn't sing," Gimli said defensively. "I just said you were keeping the rest of us awake." He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Legolas' face. "What were you singing just now, anyway?"

"A lament for Gandalf." Legolas looked away with a sigh but not before Gimli saw a lone tear slide down his cheek. "I have known him all my years---he was present for my birth. I will miss him."

Gimli looked anxiously at him and glanced back toward camp. "I have heard it said an Elf can die from grief. You're not---"

"Nay. Have no fear there." Legolas placed a hand over his heart. "But there is a great emptiness here. And it will not go away soon."

Gimli stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It's not good to keep such feelings bottled up inside," he said at long last. "If singing is how you show your emotions, go ahead. I'll not stop you."

He turned back to camp and heard Legolas begin his song again.

To Be Continued


	5. Peace At Last

DISCLAIMER:  See Chapter One for full disclaimer

A/N:  This is the last chapter of this story.  But there will be a sequel called TEMPERED IN WAR.  Coming soon to a fanfiction.net near you.

Chapter Five:  Peace At Last

            By mid-day, they had crossed the Silverlode River and entered the Golden Wood of Lothlorien.  Here, at its borders, the trees were still far-spaced.  Sunlight filtered through the intertwined branches, still bare in winter's waning.  Only now did the Fellowship slow down their flight as they felt safety in the realm of the Elves.

            All but Gimli.  He gripped Frodo's arm and whispered, "Be still.  They say these woods are home to a great sorceress.  An Elf witch of terrible power.  All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again."

            From behind them, Legolas snorted and said, "_They_ say entirely too much."

            Frodo looked around nervously.  Gimli stated, "Well, this is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily.  I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox---oh!"

            He found himself staring at an Elvish arrow.  A dozen strange Elves, clad in leathers of blue and gray, surrounded the Fellowship and each had a drawn bow.  Even Legolas, his own bow up and drawn, was a target.  Aragorn raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

            "A lammath en-craban," said a stern-faced Elf with golden hair, moving forward.

            "So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves," snapped Gimli.  "Speak so's we all can understand."

            Legolas lowered his bow.  "He said you also have the voice of a crow."  Disregarding Gimli's indignant snort, he said, "Mae govannen, Haldir o Lothlorien."

            Haldir nodded acknowledgement and signalled his warriors to lower their bows.  He stared haughtily down his nose at Gimli and said, "The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark.  We have not had dealings with Dwarves since the Dark Days."  His eyes swept the group and came to rest on Frodo.  "You bring great evil with you.  You can go no further."

            He started to move away.  Aragorn caught his arm, speaking rapidly in Elvish.  Legolas joined the discussion and a heated argument began.

            With the setting sun, the Elves moved the Fellowship to a wooden platform---a _talan_ in their tongue---high in the trees.  The Elves set guards while Aragorn and Haldir continued arguing.  The Fellowship spread their bedrolls and got comfortable but Gimli doubted any would get sleep that night.  The Elves spoke in whispers of _yrch_ and he knew what that meant.

            When morning finally began to brighten the sky, a grim-faced Aragorn pulled Gimli aside.  "Haldir will escort us through Lothlorien only if Legolas and I guard you and you are blindfolded."

            "That's ridiculous!" Gimli protested.  "I'm no spy, yet he would treat me as a beggar or prisoner, to be led about blindly.  My word is as good as anyone's."

            "Peace, friend."  Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder.  "It is their way and we are strangers here."

            "So do we just leave then?"

            "We're not allowed to leave.  I told him I would not allow you to be singled out.  We will all be bound and led."

            Gimli laughed.  "Like so many blind beggars with one dog?  And how does the Elf feel about this?"

            Aragorn looked up as the Elf in question joined them.  "I like it not," Legolas admitted, "for I am kin here and the sun is bright through the forest.  But I agree with Aragorn---bind one, bind all."

            Gimli nodded thoughtfully, then stood up.  "Then let's be on with this before I change my mind."

NEW SCENE

            They had no idea how far they traveled, or even the direction.  Sometimes the sun coming through the trees warmed their faces.  Other times they felt in on their backs.  But Haldir was true to his word---their feet found neither root nor stone so they gained confidence as they walked.  There was little conversation except for the endless chattering from Pippin.

            At midday, they stopped to rest and eat.  Surprisingly springy, deep grass formed a soft cushion beneath Gimli's old bones.  The Elves provided them with a meal of assorted tubers, fruits, and nuts.  While Gimli would have preferred fresh meat, he was satisfied even though he could not see the meal.

            He heard quiet voices and cocked his head, listening.  He couldn't make out specific words but knew from the lilting tones the speakers were both Elvish.

            "My brother Orophin brings news," Haldir said, close enough that Gimli jumped in surprise.  "Orcs crossed the Nimrodel during the night, something they have not done in two ages."

            "They are tracking us," Aragorn said.

            "No longer.  They have been destroyed.  But we are reinforcing the borders.  There is something else as well.  A strange creature, bent so it nearly runs on all fours yet it is no animal."

            "Gollum," whispered Frodo.

            "Few things of this world can escape the patrols of Lothlorien," Haldir said with a trace of pride, "but this 'Gollum' has done so.  We shall keep watch for it."

            "Hannon le," said Aragorn.

            "Orophin also brought word from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim.  The Lady knows you and your purpose.  She commands that you are all to walk free, even the Dwarf Gimli."

            "Well, it's about time!" grumbled the Dwarf.

            Suddenly he found his eyes uncovered.  Haldir bowed deeply to him.  "Your pardon," said the Elf.  "I hope you will look now on us with friendly eyes.  You are the first Dwarf since Durin's day to behold Caras Galdhon, heart of Elvendom on Middle Earth."

            And a beautiful sight it was to behold.  The woods around them were green even in the middle of winter.  They were at the edge of a large valley with a great mound in the center.  Star-shaped golden flowers mixed with others of white and pale green to create a misty appearance in the valley.  The distant mound was covered with trees---some leafless in winter's sleep with white bark and others of enormous size with pale gold leaves.  A giant _talan_ could be seen in the greatest tree.

            "This is more Elvish than anything I've heard of," Sam said.  "It's like I'm inside a song, if you take my meaning."

            Haldir smiled in understanding.  "You feel the power of the Lady Galadriel.  There are none more fair or beautiful.  Come.  We still have far to go."

            The Fellowship followed the Elf warrior.  As he picked up his axe, Gimli paused to look again at the distant mound.  He felt at peace---a strange sensation for a Dwarf among Elves.  Perhaps the Fellowship would have time to rest and grieve for Gandalf before having to face the wilds again.  He hoped so---they certainly needed it.

            "Coming, Master Dwarf?  Or do I need to get Haldir so he can lead you?"

            Gimli spun around to see Legolas' smiling face.  "I'll find my own path, thank you very much!  With none of your smart comments!"

            He stomped off after the rest of the group.

END


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